


Held

by starrylitme



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa Zero, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canonical Character Death, Complicated Relationships, Despair Era (Dangan Ronpa), F/M, Gen, Introspection, M/M, Remnants of Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Ultimate Despair (Dangan Ronpa)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:01:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27030010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrylitme/pseuds/starrylitme
Summary: There’s no fixing a world this fucking broken, and Matsuda knows it’s only a matter of time before he’s buried in the rubbish. It’s the only fate he really deserves, for all his stupid hard work and even fucking stupider ambitions. But, even if he knows this...
Relationships: Enoshima Junko/Matsuda Yasuke, Kamukura Izuru & Matsuda Yasuke, Komaeda Nagito/Matsuda Yasuke
Comments: 6
Kudos: 39
Collections: Mixed_Fics





	Held

**Author's Note:**

> It's another Bad Things Happen Bingo Prompt! This time it's "cry into chest" so y'all know the direction this had to go. It's also MatsuKoma, so...
> 
> A friend requested this and I hope they like it. It's a bit of a vent-y piece, too, and it's also short.
> 
> I want spicy chicken nuggets rn.

It goes like this. Once there was a boy who lost his mother completely, after months and years of steady deterioration. One might think her inevitable death had been a relief. A merciful end to that strain of rotting misery, twisting and warping and killing his mother psychologically until she was unrecognizable. He still ended up crying into the shoulder of the worst person on the planet.

And as she stroked his hair and wiped away his tears, cooing sweet words of comfort in that gross, despicable voice of her—he had wanted to promise that, no matter what, he’ll protect her.

_Hilarious, right? A fucking riot, right?_

Well, not as much of a riot as the ones she started, but... Fuck. He really had been that fucking stupid and desperate from the start. In his defense, he never cried in front of another person ever again. He was pretty content to never feeling anything again after she tried to kill him.

He was extra, extra content to not feel after she died.

And yet, and yet, and yet, and yet.

Back up. There was something important that had been forgotten. Well, there had been many things forgotten. Lost in that bitch’s shadow, or blotted out by her overbearing and blinding radiance. Either way, one of those things was a certain person. Particular out of a sea of particulars—even to the point of drawing the headmaster’s attention.

Yeah, Komaeda Nagito. The Ultimate Lucky. Literally, the only case one could make for luck even existing in the first place, much less applicable as a talent. Not that Komaeda had control over his cosmic luck. God forbid that. He still doesn’t want to think about what Kamukura Izuru was capable of with his luck.

He digresses. This isn’t about Kamukura Izuru, right now. It’s about Komaeda. Komaeda Nagito. Ultimate Luck. Ultimate Hope Fanboy. Lanky, angular, pale, and riddled with disease, including frontotemporal dementia, which landed him squarely in Matsuda’s lap.

He’s not the kind of person who sees his mother in every single dementia patient. He’s not that creepy and pathetic. But, there was something about Komaeda’s personality in particular.

Komaeda Nagito was—a huge pain in the ass. Obsessive, manic, erratic, fickle, aggravating, temperamental, short-sighted, narrow-minded, stubborn, naïve, unstable, volatile, childish, elitist, and just overall, what one would call a piece of shit. He was also exceptionally cheerful, with a carefree air about to mask his million and a half anxieties. Well... To mask is probably inaccurate.

Komaeda Nagito might have just been a dim-witted, total fucking ditz. A ditz with dementia, at that. Which hit a little too close to home. Thank fucking god that the guy’s hair had already turned white because apparently, he had been a redhead in youth and that would’ve just been the end of Matsuda Yasuke’s life. Just. Done. Thank you. Good-fucking-bye.

Alas, his life did not prematurely end, either incidentally thanks to a certain lucky dipshit or intentionally thanks to the worst fucking person on the planet. Should he be thankful? Fuck, no. Bitch, he did _not_ ask to live past the ripe old age of twenty. But sometimes, life finds a way.

Well.

Kamukura Izuru found a way.

This still isn’t about him.

And not because Matsuda Yasuke never wants to think about him again. Promise. Promise.

_Fuck_.

He doesn’t even know what that freak is up to anymore, and thinking about him causes headaches that hurt like hell a thousand times over, so he just—doesn’t. He doesn’t think. He doesn’t feel. He doesn’t really do anything. Hasn’t been doing anything for a while, now. Turns out it’s hard to be active when the world is literally in shambles. Turns out depression gets real fucking nasty when everything is tumultuous and chaotic, especially outside. Funny how living starts to look more and more meaningless when people are just dying. One after another. All for the stupid fucking concept known as despair. Really—all because Junko told them to. And people are dumb. People are easy. People _suck_.

She’s dead now. Junko is. That sure happened.

It happened and now, everything is truly in a chaotic state. People are going haywire, with the Future Foundation even more in a rush to gain control, but with their manic fucking leader keen on stamping out every last bit of despair. Hopefully, they’re still focused on rescuing people. Many hostages had been taken after all.

Matsuda wonders about them. He probably should wonder about himself because, in addition to being a dead man walking, he has more of a target on his back than usual. Fan-fucking-tastic. If only he cared. If only he had the energy to care. Somehow, along the road, he lost that after crying into the shoulder of a girl who only ever cared about destroying everything, including herself.

Isn’t that a shame.

Isn’t that unfortunate.

Komaeda Nagito sure thinks so. Even now, Komaeda Nagito tells him he thinks so. Clearly and repeatedly, as if depression made a guy deaf. With Junko gone, the idiot’s gotten super anxious and on edge, fiddling with a gloved hand and fidgeting. There’s other stuff to do, other stuff he’s planned for sure.

“Matsuda-kun...?”

But he’s still here, bothering Matsuda. Because Matsuda’s just that fucking lucky of a guy to have someone who cares so much.

“Matsuda-kun?”

Fucking pest. Not that Komaeda Nagito knows any better. Not that it’s unjustified, either, since Matsuda feels like everything is crashing down all around him. There’s not even a damn reason for it. His brain just decided to start feeling like shit because he’s that much of a self-destructive piece of shit. Of fucking course he was. He devoted himself to fucking Junko and for what? Just because she let him cry on her and never used it against him despite manipulating everything and everyone else?

What a joke. What a fucking joke.

“Ah. Alright.”

Even more of a fucking joke is Komaeda Nagito pulling him close. Komaeda Nagito patting his head. It’s so patronizing and cruel. It’s so infuriating that Matsuda’s shaking, squeezing his eyes shut as they stung, stung, _stung_.

Everything’s all wrong. It’s been all wrong, and it’s going to stay all wrong. There’s no fixing a world this fucking broken, and Matsuda knows it’s only a matter of time before he’s buried in the rubbish. It’s the only fate he really deserves, for all his stupid hard work and even fucking stupider ambitions. But, even if he knows this...

He still wants to be held like he had been back then.

And if Komaeda Nagito’s going to idiotically indulge him, Matsuda supposes the least he can do is not let go of him. Like anyone expected this to _go_ any other way.


End file.
